


Vivo Per Lei

by TheWritingSquid



Series: Disaster Dad [6]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alcohol, Business Partners amiright, Christmas Fluff, DMC Gen Week, Dadgil, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Gen, Gift Giving, Musical Bonding, Singing Twins, Snow, Toddler!Nero, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 10:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20080849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWritingSquid/pseuds/TheWritingSquid
Summary: Some family traditions deserved to be revived. Others needed to be updated.Dante hadn’t expected the latter to result into Vergil and him standing back to back in the middle of his twin’s living room, standing on one of his sofa, singing Vivo Per Lei at the top of their lungs while Nero watched with wide eyes and Lady died of laughter. But life was full of great surprises, and Christmas this year had held more than a few of them.





	Vivo Per Lei

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to all my Christmas headcanons haha
> 
> This is part 5 of the Disaster Dad AU. It can be read independantly from the others too.
> 
> Written for DMC Gen Week Day 6 - Birthday/Musical. I picked the musical prompt haha.

**Christmas Eve -3 : The Request**

It started when Vergil asked him to stay past his usual time on Spardaghetti Day, until Nero was fast asleep in their bed. His tone had been grave and curt, and Dante had worried he’d finally wisened up to his twin's neighbourhood hunts and the gradual increase of demons in the city. Vergil had sit him down with tea (Dante had thought it’d be a euphemism for something alcoholic, but he really should’ve known better) and gone straight to the point.

“I have a request for you, Dante.”

Dante kicked his chair back, pushing it on two legs while he set his feet on the table. It earned him a scowl, but Nero wasn’t there to see and apparently Vergil’s request was important enough not to strike a fight here and there. “I’m listenin’, big bro.”

Vergil bristled, fingers tapping on the table, like he was fighting himself over this. While his internal warfare went on, Dante picked up his weird little teacup and sipped from it. Whatever was in there was warm and kinda bitter, but it wasn’t half as bad as he’d expected (just kinda boring) so he went for another sip to keep his hands busy. At length, Vergil huffed and crossed his arms. “I need you to take Nero off my arms for a day.”

Dante’s heart slammed into his chest and he spit the tea, the chair falling back to four legs with a loud snap. “You what now?”

He had to have misheard. Vergil never left his kid’s side for more than a handful of minutes. No way he wanted to be rid of him for a whole fucking day (no way he was _ trusting Dante _ with him for a whole fucking day). Except there wasn’t a hint of mockery in his brother’s tense shoulders, the way he clenched his jaw, or how he wouldn’t look at Dante at all.

“I believe you heard me quite well. He…” Vergil hesitated and brought his hands back to himself (shit, had they been shaking?). His tone remained as steady and cold as ever, however. “He saw a Christmas tree and asked why this tree was shiny. I need the time to arrange this surprise for him, and he has been extremely demanding in attention recently. I thought, perhaps--”

“You wanna celebrate Christmas.”

The words flew right out of his mouth, flat from his disbelief. Vergil flinched, and Dante regretted not couching them in some form of jest. His brain and wits had been a tad too slow this time around. He forced a chuckle out, dabbed at the spilled tea with his sleeve, and tried to work his way to a less awkward conversation.

“S’just… can’t say I been too keen on it since mom died.”

Welp. Failing grade for that attempt, for sure. Vergil squeezed his eyes shut.

“To your great surprise, I’m certain, it has not been a priority of mine either to underscore a celebration from a religion I do not believe in, tied to memories of a family I no longer had, while escaping a constant stream of demon hordes.” He tilted his head to the side, eyes still closed, his voice growing softer. “That, however, is _ our _burden, not Nero’s. So, yes, I would like to do something for Christmas. For his sake.”

“I’m in,” Dante said, his heart pounding at the very idea of such a _ family _ thing, “but you gotta invite Lady. We spent the last two years drinking to the shittiness of our respective families, and I ain’t leavin’ her alone because mine got fixed along the way.”

Lady was going to kill him for admitting that much about their ritual to Vergil, and judging by Vergil’s scowl, he hadn’t wanted to know either. He tapped the table twice, then wrapped his hand around his tiny teacup.

“Very well, but she is not coming for free.”

“Yeah, yeah, you two do your usual bartering schtick, I don’t care.” 

Dante waved it away. Vergil and Lady could keep pretending they only endured each other because of the occasional business exchange (and Lady had started actually _ hiring _ Vergil to dig out info on books, if he’d heard that right, so they kinda were business partners to some extent), but Dante knew there was more. Vergil didn’t let just anyone hang around Nero like that. 

“So I get the kid for a whole day? Doing whatever I want?”

Vergil’s gaze snapped to him, the warning glare all the answer Dante needed. “A whole day, Dante, and I’m _ trusting you _to bring Nero back safe and healthy. Is that clear?”

“Super clearo, big bro!” he declared, giving Vergil a thumbs up. Then the reality of it sank in (a whole day! With his nephew!) and a wide grin split his face. “This is gonna be awesome!”

**Christmas Eve -2 : Christmas Tree**

When the day came, Vergil had turned into a bundle of nerves. He’d prepared a dozen different lists for Dante (objects in Nero’s bags, clues he needed to pee, rules to respect when they ate, the detailed lineup of their lunch, phone numbers, places of interest if he ran out of ideas…) as if he expected his twin to look at any of them (okay, Dante did look at the pee one, cause accidents would make Nero sad). Once he’d given Dante as many lectures as he’d had lists, he turned to Nero and made him promise to behave and enjoy his day and stay safe and then something in Italian that made Nero grin and Vergil smirk, and Dante was pretty sure he was getting pranked at one point or another. It took so long that Dante was growing convinced they’d _ never _leave, but Vergil must have caught the look on his face, because he brutally changed to “what are you even still doing here?” and ushered them out.

And just like that, Dante had Nero all for him. 

They didn’t really do anything special. It was snowing and Nero wanted to play out, so they went to a very large park, he found a discreet spot, and he showed the kid how to make angels in the snow. Once they had a few going, he changed into his demon form and let himself drop from above, imprinting the shape of his actual wings in the ground. Nero loved it and kept letting himself flop down after that, exclaiming “Look Zio!!” at the very indistinct shape his tiny bundled arms left in the snow.

A lot of it had fallen since Nero’s first day building a snowman, but it wasn’t sticky right now, so Dante went ahead and initiated the kid to another great pleasure: the way fluffier snow just rose in thick clouds when you fell into it. He climbed up a tree with the kid, hung down from the lowest branch, and dropped him into the mound of snow below. Nero fell with a happy scream, thunking feet first into the snow below and laughing his tiny heart out.

“Ancora! Ancora!” he called, extending his arms up, and Dante didn’t need translation to know what that meant. 

“Wanna go again, huh, kiddo?”

He was fairly certain ‘dropping Nero from above’ might be somewhere in Vergil’s No-No lists, but hey, by the time his brother would learn from Nero they’d done it, it’d be too late to stop him, and the little bud would be smiling so hard it’d melt all of his resistance! He picked up the kid again, climbed back up the tree, and this time he gave Nero a little swing, provoking another streak of laughter. They repeated the game a few times, until Dante decided to one up himself. He headed up the nearby hill and climbed all the way to the top of the tree, holding Nero tight as he reached for his demon powers once more. He tried to be more controlled this time, to form nothing but his wings, the way Vergil could, and they did come out first--the rest just swept in right after, like a rubber band snapping back to its original form. Nero's squeal washed off some of his frustration.

"Demon zio!"

"Yeah, kid. El Zio Diablo!"

That was probably Spanish again, but whatever. He snapped his wings open and tightened his grip on Nero's tiny body, turning him so he'd face outward. His stomach tightened as he prepared to launch himself and glide. He'd fought countless demons without the slightest twinge of fear, performed crazy awesome stunts on his hunts for the sheer thrill of twisting and flipping midair, but those had always been just him. They were high enough that if he _ somehow _ dropped Nero, the snow wouldn't save his squishy body. And that… that was more terrifying than he'd expected.

"Okay, lil' buddy. We're about to take flight, but ya gotta obey the rules. Ya spread your arms out, and ya don't move. No kicking, no squirming, nothin'. Gotcha?"

Nero extended both of his minuscule arms and his head bobbed in agreement. "No moving."

"Coolio. Let's roll."

Dante launched himself off, wings immediately catching the wind. His claws tightened around Nero as he banked, trees rushing under him, the air whooshing in his ears. After a stunned gasp, Nero let out a long _ weeeeeeeee_, his arms never moving from the promised position. Dante tried to ignore the soft warmth spreading in him, focusing on the air currents around him, the way his body shifted as his wings stretched or flapped. He’d never really _ flown _ before, only used the wings to change his trajectory or leap higher. Probably something he should’ve tested out _ before _he took a chance with his nephew, huh? 

Turned out it wasn’t all that hard, and they glided together for a few precious minutes, until Dante neared the trees again. He brought Nero close to him, folded himself over his nephew, tucking himself into a tight ball and using his wings as shields as they crashed through the branches. This scored him a few scratches, but they healed instantly, and the two of them thumped gently in the snow, sending a cloud flying overhead. The moment he uncurled himself, Nero straightened up, fumbling to turn around and straddle him, his two hands firm on Dante’s chest. 

“We flew!”

The enthusiasm was contagious, and faced with big bright eyes and a wide grin, Dante could only smile back. “Yeah buddy! Real high!”

This was, all in all, the highlight of their day together. Dante brought the kid back to the _ Devil May Cry _after (he’d promised Vergil they wouldn’t stay out if Nero was too wet), and he unpacked the lunch Vergil had readied for them--egg sandwiches, homemade chicken soup, a shitton of veggies, and even two little brownies. It was… kinda cute, that he’d obviously included Dante in his portions. 

After that, they split the afternoon in the usual brawl-and-drawing combo, Nero happily chattering on about snow angels and flight and winter, his sentences markedly longer than they’d been even a few months ago. Dante loved watching him grow and learn. Every new accomplishment filled him with ridiculous pride and the need to high five his tiny nephew (and if _ he _found it so exciting, he could only imagine how Vergil felt about it). 

Dante’s single babysitting day came to an end all too soon, but as he packed Nero’s things again (and, gosh, how had they managed to get scattered all over his office like that?), he started wondering about what Vergil had accomplished with the free time. 

###

The Christmas tree turned out to be a multigenerational concept. Strings of blue and white lights wrapped around it, crisscrossing with silver tinsel and casting their glow on enormous transparent globes with patterns of silver dusting and smaller ivory ones, entirely opaque. It was all very tasteful and elegant (very Vergil, really), but then Dante spotted all the tiny ghosts hanging everywhere, floating from branches--some wooden, other in cloth fabric; some beautiful, most extremely kitsch--and he snorted. Nero's obsession with them hadn't dwindled in the past month, and if Vergil had asked what he wanted in the tree, he would've yelled "fantasme" with great enthusiasm. Dante bet it hurt Vergil's little heart to shatter his pretty aesthetic with ghosts, even if it was for Nero.

Then again, he'd also added birds.

Dante froze when he spotted them, memories of their mother singing as she placed the fake birds among the branches, sometimes twirling in rhythm with the song. Birds had been Eva's thing--chickadees, robins, and warblers, mostly. She'd said it made the tree alive, and she'd insisted to place a long-tailed, glittery one on top, where others placed the star. Vergil had found a blue jay instead, and it proudly nested above them. Dante’s gaze drifted from the decorations to Vergil himself, who scowled and glared at his brother’s widening smile. 

He might as well have challenged him to shut up directly. 

“Whassat, Vergil? A lil’ birdie’s telling me ya got a bit sentimental there!”

Blue blades shimmered into existence above Vergil’s shoulder, vanishing as fast as they’d come, their meaning immensely clear. Man, but Dante _ loved _having Nero around as protection from those shimmering swords. He grinned at his brother harder (what was even the point of the holiday, if he couldn’t poke fun at Mr. Power’s obvious nostalgia?) then set the wriggling kid down.

Nero sprinted across the living room, tiny boots leaving puddles of water as he stomped his way to Vergil and the tree, his eyes shining as he took in all the sparkling glory of Vergil’s work. At the last moment, he changed course and turned to Vergil, opening his still-bundled-in-a-snowsuit arms with a gleeful “Da’!” Vergil’s scowl turned into surprised wide eyes, then his entire body mellowed as he picked his son up.

“What is your opinion, Nero? Do you like the tree?” 

Nero ignored the tree entirely, instead flinging his arms around Vergil’s neck. “I miss you.”

“Nero…” Vergil’s gaze briefly met Dante’s, then he squeezed his eyes shut, so obviously struggling to keep himself together. His lips curved into a delicate smile and he squeezed Nero against him despite the wet suit. “I missed you, too. Let’s get you out of the snowsuit, and then you can look at the tree and tell me all about your day.”

In the end, ‘look at the tree’ meant Nero squealed at everything his gaze rested on, constantly reaching out to touch everything. Vergil scolded him when he played with the fragile balls but otherwise let him, using the opportunity to grill Dante with questions about the day--until Nero’s hands clamped on the beautiful globes despite his dad’s warnings and sent one flying to the ground. It shattered loudly, interrupting the conversation, and Nero yelped and struggled out of Vergil’s grasp, landing hard on the ground.

“Nero!” Alarm mixed with anger in Vergil’s voice as his toddler took a first step among the pile of broken glass. He scooped him up, making Nero flinch at the touch--and both Vergil and Dante froze at that. Nero was no longer squirming to get away, had only tensed and almost curled up in Vergil’s arms. Like… like he thought someone would hit him. The sheer horror written all over his dad’s face was reassuring, at least.

“You okay, kiddo?” Dante asked. 

Vergil stepped away from the glass, silently setting Nero down on the couch before crouching. “Nero, look at me.”

Nero sniffled and refused to obey. “L’ho rotto.”

“Yes, you did.” Vergil put his hands on Nero’s shoulder, and the little bud’s entire body went rigid. It made Dante want to punch something, and his twin was no different, if the storm brewing under his stony mask was any indication. He squeezed ever so gently. “This is why I asked you not to touch, Nero. Understood?”

The kid pressed his lips together and nodded. He didn’t make any sound, didn’t move beyond that. It’d been a while since Dante had seen him this subdued. “Vergil…”

Vergil rose a hand and interrupted him. “I know,” he snapped, before brushing Nero’s bangs aside. “Are you hurt? Broken glass is dangerous. You shouldn’t step in it.”

Nero shook his head, then quietly asked, “Is Da’ angry?”

After a moment of hesitation, Vergil sighed. “Yes, Nero. Your father is angry because you disobeyed.”

Nero slowly lifted his chin, his tiny hands digging into his shirt and twisting it. “L’ho rotto.”

“And we will find something to replace it.” He frowned and turned towards the tree, staring at the big hole there. Dante could almost imagine the gears turning inside. “Do you know origami, Nero? It’s the art of folding paper. We could create the replacement together.”

That was all it took for Nero’s face to light up, and soon Vergil was explaining the concept to him. Nero looked utterly confused, and Dante suspected he’d need a demonstration, but at least he wasn’t cowering on the couch anymore. That… all of that had actually been pretty damn smooth from Vergil. He had to admit he was impressed, his bro was growing into some mad parenting skills there. Or maybe a whole day had given him time to recharge his patience or something. Either way, they managed to get Nero excited about the Christmas tree again, and once the shattered remains of the translucid globe were gone, the kid straight up seemed to forget about it.

Dante plopped his ass down into the couch as he watched them, sitting in the middle of the living room with an array of paper sheets, Nero randomly folding them while Vergil obviously tried to recall an actual pattern. The tree’s lights cast shifting shades of blue on them, and between that and the birds, there was something very nostalgic about the scene that sank into Dante and left him with heavy sadness. 

Fuck but he hated when he got like this--like some bullshit happiness whiplash just couldn’t help but slam into him. He’d thought it’d go away with Vergil and Nero being around (with all the good turns his life had taken over the last six months), but apparently not. Holidays were always like that, though. He’d hated them the last decade, and he had to admit, he wasn’t sure he was ready for this one, either. Vergil was right about one thing, though: Nero deserved the celebration. If his brother could suck it up and give the kid a fun time, then he damn well would, too.

**Christmas Eve -1: The Invitation**

Life got its vengeance for his miraculous avoidance of a fight with Nero over the broken globe the following day, when Vergil placed Nero’s first gift under the tree and his son absolutely refused to understand why he couldn’t open it right away. It was his, and he wanted it now, and the concept of gifts and special occasions were completely foreign to him. Vergil snapped when Nero tried to tear the wrapping off, yanking the gift box away from him, and for the first time in at least two weeks, his toddler ran off to the bathroom and slammed himself in.

Vergil remained by the tree, his ruined gift box in hand, his head ringing from the mounting argument, and he sighed. Every time he allowed himself to believe he was becoming proficient with parenting conundrums, he and Nero found a new topic to fight over or a new skill he should’ve learned months ago. Lady had once shoved a book on raising children in his hands, and since then he’d gone through several more from the library, but the end result remained much of the same: in practice, he utterly failed to follow through most of their advice.

At least he had learned one thing: he was going to get it wrong, repeatedly, and he needed to deal with the knots in his stomach and the shrivelling of his heart at Nero’s tantrums the same way he’d always dealt with wounds in battle--avoid them at all cost, let them heal and vanish when it happened. For all that Vergil _ still _found himself in pointless arguments with Nero, none of it compared to the soul-wrenching grind of the first few weeks, when he’d mind numbingly gone from chores to tantrum to snatches of sleep until all his days blurred into one long sequence of disasters salvaged only by the weekly Spardaghetti with Dante. They had come a long way, the three of them.

To think that a year ago, he had been bent over his notes on demonic power, shame and bitterness pushing him to seek another way to grow in strength, another source of power with which he could defeat Mundus and put an end to the Demon Prince’s pursuit. It all seemed so distant, now. Vergil hadn’t seen an actual demon since he’d saved Nero from them, only heard Dante’s and Lady’s stories of their hunts, though he had found the time to return to his iaido routines, late at night. Never had he dreamed of such a peaceful life, not by himself, and certainly not with a tiny, beautiful, utterly strong-willed boy.

Since Nero was stubborn enough to occupy the bathroom for a while, Vergil set the gift down on the kitchen table and moved on with his day. 

He picked up the phone, selected Lady from the contact, and started counting the ringtones until she answered. Two and a half now; she was slowly growing faster.

“Vergil.” She greeted him with the usual sharp annoyance. He smiled.

“Lady,” he replied, infusing it with a hint of scorn she’d grown used to. He could almost hear her eyeroll on the end of the line. “It has come to my attention that you and Dante have preestablished traditions for Christmas. As such--”

“The fuck did Dante tell you?” she blurted out, and Vergil caught something strange in her voice, beyond her habitual aggressiveness. He opted to ignore the question entirely.

“As such, and considering the state of our own relationship, I deemed it appropriate to extend to you the same invitation I did him.” His equanimity faltered towards the end. Lady didn't interrupt, however, forcing him to rebuild his composure and continue. "That is to say, I intend to initiate Nero to a certain number of holiday traditions, and your presence could, perhaps, er..."

He trailed off, unable to find a word that was neither impeccably rude nor made it sound like she'd be doing him a favour. If she understood the latter, she'd find a way to make him pay for her visit, nevermind that _ she _would be attending his event and consuming his food. The line remained silent, seconds stretching into minutes as Lady failed to answer. His patience quickly ran out.

"Lady?"

"What the fuck, Vergil?"

Then the line went dead. He stared at the receiver, frowning, confused about what exactly had provoked this. What was wrong with people today? First Nero, and now Lady? Should he call her back? He had needed three attempts to get through, when they'd first met again earlier in the year. With an annoyed huff, Vergil prepared to compose--only to have the phone ring before he could input anything. Lady's name flashed on the screen. He didn't give it time to ring again.

"That wasn't a business proposal," she snapped, and he could easily imagine her glaring at him. "What do you even mean, 'the state of our relationship'? I only let you live because of Dante, demon dad."

Ah yes, she 'let him live', of course. Vergil leaned back into his chair with a smirk. He must have upset her, if she felt the need to reaffirm that. "I was under the impression professionals frequently invited one another to social events in order to deepen business relationships."

"Not to private family celebrations you idiot!"

And she hung up on him again. Great. This time he dialled back before she did. 

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” he told her, his voice practically a growl. Whatever was up with her, he was growing tired of having her interrupt the conversation in this fashion.

“You’re stealing _ my _Christmas partner, asshole. It’ll cost you.”

“Preposterous.” He set the receiver against his shoulder, tilting his head to hold it, and crossed his arms. “I am not stealing anything. Dante’s conditions were quite clear: if you did not attend our celebration, then neither did he.” 

The line went silent again, and Vergil started wondering if she’d once more hung up on him. “I don’t know what I did to be stuck with two idiots like you. Fine. I’m bringing booze and, huh… some sort of appetizers?”

“As long as it’s not pizza.”

She snorted. “You’ll break his heart, I swear.”

“As intended, I assure you.” 

Her subsequent scoff untied knots in his stomach he’d barely noticed, leaving behind a discreet warmth--relief, he realized. He’d never considered Lady might refuse the invitation, yet as she let silences hang between them, the possibility had left him cold and worried. Getting through this first Christmas promised to be a difficult exercise in controlling and masking the inevitable sadness, and he could hardly imagine himself doing so alone with Nero, deprived of the distraction his ever-annoying little brother provided. But it wasn’t _ only _ Dante. 

From the moment his twin had suggested inviting Lady, he’d grown rather fond of the idea himself. For all their respective pretense, she regularly dropped by for the odd job, borrowing his books and bouncing various demon theories off him, an act for which he’d quickly learned to make her pay consulting fees. In truth, she was the only adult besides Dante--and did Dante really count?--he talked to on a regular basis, and he enjoyed the occasional change of pace. Besides, no one deserved to spend an entire evening thinking about the disastrous truth that Arkham had put them into this world.

**Christmas Eve**

"Nero told me some interesting stories about his day with you, Dante." Vergil had barely greeted him before he'd gone on the offensive, a dangerous edge to his tone, and Dante immediately guessed he was in for a scolding and wondered what he'd done wrong. "He said he _ flew_."

Ah, yep, that'd do it. He cracked a grin at Vergil. "Yeah, we did! He loved it!"

"Are you out of your mind, Dante?" He slammed his palm in the nearby wall, his hands shaking, and Dante could feel the demonic energy rising inside, his aura growing into a swirl of cold fury. "What if you'd dropped him? He could have been hurt, or-or… He's not like us, Dante!"

Dante raised his hands, palm outward. He'd known that flight was a risk, had felt fear tighten his stomach at the worst scenario, but it'd all been good in the end, hadn't it? "Woah, chillax, Vergil. Nothing happened. I brought him back safe and happy, didn't I?"

"This time, perhaps--"

"It's fine. Ya just gotta buy a small harness and--"

"_Fuck _ your harness, Dante." Silence followed Vergil's swear, both of them momentarily stunned. Vergil recovered first, and he grabbed the front of Dante's shirt--the cleanest black one he could find, dressing up earlier. "I _ trusted you_."

And under all that righteous anger, Dante heard something ten times worse: bitter disappointment. It landed in his stomach like a splash of acid, an acrid pain he didn't know how to deal with, and his smile vanished. "Look. I'm sorry. I'll… I'll be more careful next time, okay? For real."

Vergil released him with a huff. "Don't fool yourself into thinking there'll _ be _a next time."

Dante's shoulders slumped. Vergil couldn't mean that for real, could he? Nothing had happened, Nero had fun, and they'd respected all of his demands about food and naps! He'd thought it had gone pretty well, overall, but this… this wasn't the kind of joke Vergil would play on him. 

"Kiddo won't like that one," he blurted out. It was a cheap shot, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want to get barred from Nero. 

Vergil cast him a withering glare. "Thankfully, Nero doesn't make the rules."

Three knocks at the door kept Dante from replying to that (probably a good thing, considering his thoughts ranged from mockery to pleading). Vergil glanced at it, then back at Dante. Whatever he saw there, his scowl softened.

"We'll talk about your horrendous carelessness another day." 

He pushed past Dante, closing the conversation as he opened the door and let Lady in.

###

Curse Dante and his puppy face. Vergil's anger had deflated the moment he'd caught the crestfallen look on his brother's face. How could this be? He'd spent years infuriated with him, and now he couldn't even hold onto justified fury for more than a few minutes? Ugh. At least that fact alone sufficed to reignite some of his frustration, and he managed to keep the front until Lady knocked.

They set the table in a strange sort of silence: Lady dropped attempts at a conversation after two pitiful results, Dante cast him dejected looks whenever he thought no one was looking, and Vergil huffed in response and focused on his utterly shameful food offering. He’d spent a good chunk of the previous day in the kitchens, armed with a library cookbook and a lot of goodwill, but his meat pie looked too dry, and he wasn’t certain the beets and ketchup could save it. He _ had _ managed to put together something of a huge macaroni salad, with its share of ham and veggies, and which Nero had _ loved _ mixing together, the bowl almost as large as his arms were long. It just… wasn’t the gorgeous table he remembered from his youth, and no matter how often he told himself their mother had had years of practice whereas he’d had a handful of months, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. At least one couldn’t mess up buying bread and a variety of cheeses and pâté to put on it, and Lady and wrapped tiny cocktail sausages in bacon, so they had some options. Plus, the _ desserts _ had miraculously all come out all right, and he’d have peanut butter and chocolate squares for days after this.

It was fine. They just needed Nero to wake up, now. Vergil had pushed his nap as late as possible, hoping to have him stay awake longer tonight.

By the time the table was set, none of them could stand the silence anymore.

“Perhaps I--” Vergil started, intending to go wake Nero and provide them all with a distraction, only to be interrupted by the two others simultaneously speaking up too.

“Yo, Vergil--”

“What the fuck is--”

They all stopped at once, exchanged surprised glances, then Dante burst out laughing. Lady pushed him, and the heaviness lingering in the air since she’d arrived seemed to dissipate. Vergil briefly rubbed his temples.

“We seem to struggle with the definition of ‘festive’,” he remarked. 

“Whatever. Christmas sucks anyway.” Dante reached for a piece of bread and shoved it in his mouth before Vergil could protest. “Let’s start like we always do. Break out the booze, dig into the food, and pretend it’s a good time of the year until Nero wakes up, and it becomes one.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Lady declared, and she was at the fridge impressively fast. She withdrew a fancy bottle out of it--champagne, or an equivalent, he realized. “Hey Vergil, ya know how to open these with the Yamato?”

She gave the bottle a little shake, and he belatedly closed his mouth. “I--I suppose so, but the Yamato is no mere tool…”

“Aw, c’mon, bro. I bet it wants in on the celebration too!”

Vergil rolled his eyes, but he nonetheless crept into the bedroom, tiptoeing around the bed where Nero slept soundly, a shock of white hair emerging from the blankets. It’d be surprising if he slept more than another hour, but until then, Vergil didn’t want to wake him. He picked up his katana, then exited the room, smirking as he found both other adults staring at the door, holding their breath. No one wanted to disturb Nero. He closed the door behind himself.

“I must say, Lady, I did not think a simple social event between business partners warranted such luxury.” 

If looks could kill… Lady handed the bottle in a sharp motion. “Piss off, demon dad. I don’t drink with business partners. I drink with friends.”

Her mismatched eyes held a clear challenge. Vergil’s eyebrows shot up as his hands closed around the bottle, and he allowed a slight smile to touch his lips. “Then I suppose I can afford a glass, too.”

He threw the bottle upward, spinning it, and watched its arc for the perfect moment. The Yamato felt warm under his hand, familiar, too-long away from him. Yet wielding remained perfectly natural, the flow coming back with ease as he slid it out of its sheath in a flash, slashing the bottle with impeccable timing, the Yamato’s edge carressing its form before it hit its neck. Champagne exploded out of it as he stepped forward and caught it, drenching Dante and Lady both before spilling on his sleeve. He offered it back to her, trying very hard not to think of the puddle on his floor.

“Here you go.”

“_All right!_” Dante exclaimed, throwing an arm over Lady’s shoulder as she poured them glasses. “Let’s drink this fancy piss. Between _ friends _ and whatnot.” He scooped up his. “Does that mean you’ll drop the whole transaction thing or?”

Vergil scoffed and rolled his eyes. “As if.”

“This is a one-time exception, Dante,” she specified. “It’s bad form to trade debts when gifts are to be offered.”

“Oh, do we do gifts right away?” Dante’s eyes lit up--seven hells, he really _ was _a child inside, still. 

“Absolutely not. I had to rewrap Nero’s twice because he could not comprehend the concept of _ waiting for his_. If we open any gifts before he wakes, his tantrum will last for years.”

“Kinda wanna see that,” Dante muttered, and Vergil glared at him for it. He raised a hand, forfeiting immediately. “All right, all right, nevermind. Let’s just toast. It’s what we’re supposed to do with this, ain’t it?” He lifted his drink. “To us--Team Anti-Clown.”

Lady choked and elbowed him, picking up her glass and bringing it towards the center. “To one idiot dad, his idiot twin, and the small miracle holding them together.”

An intense blush crept up Vergil’s cheeks, and he tapped his drink, utterly lost about what to say. They both stared at him, and he slowly allowed his glass to join theirs, at the center. His voice halting and unsteady, he added, “To family, however unlikely, forged through blood and battle both.”

Lady very briefly caught his gaze--no longer than any toast required, really--then they both pointedly looked everywhere else. These things usually went unsaid, as they should, but tonight _ was _a one time exception. He brought the glass to his lips and drank down, promising himself to be very careful--the evening was only starting, after all, and he knew how hard the alcohol would hit him.

###

Nero was brimming with energy. He kept running around the flat, climbing on each of their laps in turn (_demanding _ to be on Lady's, too, even if she didn't usually hold him) only to leave after a few minutes. He kept returning to the buffet, filling his plates with the macaroni salad (Vergil had prepared a smaller bowl for him to serve himself from after he half-spilled the big one), even after he'd had too big chunks of the peanut butter squares. Apparently the kid didn't care for sweets, but all that mayonnaise in the salad? That got him good. Vergil made a little mix of Sprite and grenadine for him, and promptly got one for himself--that single glass of champagne already had him exceedingly expressive compared to usual.

They ate their fill, and then Dante really couldn’t take the wait anymore. He turned to Nero, clapped his hands, and asked in a bright tone, “Hey kiddo, ya wanna get your gifts yet?”

Nero jumped right to his feet, clapping his hands and spilling the macaronis left in his plate. “Yes! Regali!”

Dante grinned at him, completely ignoring Vergil’s glare, then scrambled to the tree, under which he’d hastily shoved his gifts. He couldn’t wait to see Lady’s and Vergil’s face when they opened them. They had _ no idea _ what was coming for them. Dante picked Nero’s and Vergil’s up, before using his feet to get Lady’s off the ground and kick it in her direction. She caught it a fraction of seconds before it hit her face and laughed. 

“What are _ those_, Dante?” she asked, poking at the wrapping paper. It had cute snowflakes motifs over a red background, and Dante had managed a patchwork of it, with the edges so loose the box kinda slid around.

“What d’ya mean? They’re my beautiful gifts!” He spread his arms out before placing a hand over his heart. “I did my best with the time I had, all right?”

“You had three days’ warning!” Lady protested. “That’s two more than _ I _did, and mine look amazing.”

Hers were picture perfect, with elegant silver and gold wrapping paper, a large decorative ribbon and an intricate bow straight out of Christmas movies. Dante rolled his eyes.

“Ya totally paid the store for that, you cheat.”

“Cheat?” She laughed and shrugged, raising her hands in a dismissive gesture. “I only use the means at hand, Dante. You could’ve done the same.”

“Homemade’s better,” he mumbled.

Before the argument could go on, the sound of paper ripping filled the living room: Nero clearly cared little for the quality of his wrapping. He pulled at it with a wide smile, throwing it to the ground without pause. Vergil had to help him open the box proper, and as soon as he recognized what was inside, he groaned and shot Dante the most glorious 'how dare you' glare he could've hoped for. 

Nero squealed with joy and pulled his ugly christmas sweater up, immediately stuffing his face in the distorted snowman design up front.

"Oh no…" Lady said, weighing her box, her frown deepening at its lightness.

"Oh yes," Dante confirmed, before getting his own sweater from his bag at the entrance. They all had a different one. Vergil's was a dark blue with an almost skeletal reindeer, Lady's was weird-yellow-meant-to-be-golden with big uneven silver stars, Nero's was all white with the black line delineating the snowman, and his was red, the christmas elf on top more hat than person. The level of horrendous bad taste about them had managed to flip all the way into fucking awesome, and Dante only needed to ask Nero if he liked them and wanted his whole family to put them on to get a very enthusiastic yes, and to snag everyone in his trap. Vergil mouthed "I will kill you" as he helped Nero into his.

He said that, but they all looked delightfully awesome and holiday-themed now, and he had exactly no regrets. 

Nero was the first to get the rest of his gifts, and they’d all collectively aimed for a variation of toys. Lady had found building blocks that lit up when on their stand, and Dante had unearthed the perfect gift for his nephew, always sitting on the counter and helping his dad when there was shit to cook: a full blown set of plastic ingredients and kitchen utensils, all of which could be put together to build _ a pizza_. It even had bottles that squirted tomato sauce! And, sadly, olives, but he could live with plastic olives on his plastic pizza. Vergil had bought an entire series of colouring books with a continuous story on each page, and which they’d be able to read together long after Nero had filled the thick lines in. Nero downright screamed when he saw the new series of marker, immediately jumping off Vergil to run towards his pile of blank sheets, tiny feet thumping onto the floor as he ran.

But even when they were done with Nero’s gifts, several more remained under the tree. Vergil and Lady pretended not to notice and watched the kid draw, so Dante rolled his eyes and got the ball rolling once more. What he had for Lady fit in a tiny card, but he flicked it at her. She caught it and cracked it open in one smooth movement. 

“A meeting with one… Mr. Morrison? You wanna explain, Dante?” She flipped the card in between her fingers. It was the dude’s professional card, with time and date written on it.

“Ya know how you’re always bustin’ my balls because of all the time ya waste finding demon hunting jobs instead of actually killin’ the bastards?” He cracked a grin at her; she pretty much ranted about this every goddamn hunt, these days. “Well, this Morrison dude is some sort of agent? Left me a card like a year ago and I couldn’t be bothered, but I figured, for your sake? Sure.”

“You had a contact from a potential agent for _ a year _and you didn’t tell me shit?” Lady demanded, anger rising like a wave in her voice. “You’re lucky Vergil makes me leave all the guns in the closet!”

“So ya like it?” Dante asked.

“I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, Lady,” he said, leaning back into the sofa with a self-satisfied smirk. “Oh, I also called Nell and had her customize guns for ya, but that’s just icing on the cake.”

And just like that, she sputtered and her anger deflated. Lady huffed, shoved the card into her pocket, then stomped to the tree. Ironically, her own gift for Dante was also a card-shaped. She’d gone straight for his heart, offering a gigantic gift card for the pizza shop, along with a string of tickets that simply said “get out of debt free”. He suspected he’d have burned through both of these within a month, at most.

He was still flipping through these when she plopped the heaviest box of the lot on Vergil's lap, drawing a confused stare out of him. "Business partners don't--"

"Just shut up," she snapped.

A smile tugged at the corner of Vergil's lips. "I suppose I did select something for you, too."

Lady had acquired a small espresso machine--the kind of fancy shit that ground the grains right before it made coffee with it or something. Vergil kept running his hands over the box with small pleased grunts, fingers tracing the descriptions of feature, obviously already half gone in daydream mode. Maybe it was the early glass of alcohol, because Dante had rarely seen him so unrestrained. Lady burst out laughing, and the bark-like sound drew him out of his bubble.

"Thank you, Lady," he said, ten times more solemn than he'd really needed to be.

She snorted. "It's for the long nights of research I put you through, of course. Not 'cause the kid destroys your sleep schedule."

"Evidently." He set the box aside, his fingers briefly trailing on it with longing, then unfolded himself from the couch. “Speaking of long nights of research…”

Vergil crossed his living room in two long strides, and Dante was struck by how steady and firm each of them was--how determined and deadly. Had he started training again? He moved as he’d had in the Temen-ni-gru, all tension and precision, but that had mellowed a lot since Nero’s arrival. Whatever it was, it beat even the massive impact a single glass had on his brother’s lightweight little soul (good time to bust out more of it, then; he and Lady had finished the bubbles already, and he was itching for something stronger). Dante made a quick trip to the fridge and returned with new supplies.

Vergil picked a single book out of the shelf--a thin and worn thing, dirty with stains and blood, but wrapped with a single, silver bow. He thumbed its surface, and for a moment his entire face softened, like it did when he watched Nero sleep (kinda weird, for him to do this over a book). Then it was gone, washed away by determination, and he handed it to Lady.

“These are my personal notes,” he said. “I was eminently dissatisfied by much of the information available as a youth and could not lug an infinite amount of tomes while dodging pursuit, so I kept track of my firsthand experiences in there. Just…” His voice trailed off and he pinched his lips, a distinct red climbing up his cheeks as he added in a whisper. “Pay the poetry no mind.”

“Ya wrote your own?”

Dante leaped from his seat, reaching for the book, but Lady snatched it out of the way before he could even touch the cover, and Vergil spun on his heels and slammed his elbow in Dante’s chest, pushing him back. 

“This isn’t for you, Dante,” he snapped.

Dante pouted. He totally wanted to peek at those poems! Maybe he could bribe Lady into letting him have the book for a few hours. 

“Don’t even think of it,” she said, rolling her eyes. Damn mind reader, that woman. Dante crossed his arms and stuck his tongue at her.

"So what's my gift?" he asked.

Vergil's eyebrows formed a perfect arch, and he didn't need to say a word for Dante to hear his snide _ "Ever so entitled, little brother_._" _ He leaned forward, turning to Nero. 

"Nero," he said, and the kid's head snapped up, big wide eyes waiting eagerly. "Do you remember where is your zio's gift?"

"Yes!" He scrambled to his feet, dropping the markers without closing them. "La scatola di a--"

"Ssh, Nero. Off you are. Get it for him."

Nero first rewarded with the shiniest of all toddlers's grins (a blessed gift in and of itself) then scampered off to their bedroom. Vergil used the opportunity to close all the markers he'd strewn across the ground, uncapped. It didn't take long for his little monster to come running back, however, his small hands clamped around a tiny square box, a few inches wide, its cardboard once a uniform pale blue, now covered with Nero's adorable but very abstract art. The kid offered it to him, stretching on the tip of his toes to reach as high as he could.

Dante plucked it up, then ruffled his hair. "Can't wait to see what this is, kiddo."

"Perhaps…" Vergil started, his voice stuttering to a stop. Dante glanced up, then his whole brain stopped at the unfiltered embarrassment written all over Vergil's face (he was so red!). "Perhaps you ought to open it when alone."

Dante's smile widened. No way. No way he was gonna miss out on this opportunity, and more of the delightful shyness displayed. Vergil might have become more prone to displaying emotions other than contempt and anger, but Dante sure as fuck hadn't grown tired of basking in those. He turned to Nero.

"You'd rather I wait, kid?"

"Apri la scatola!" Nero demanded, and his accompanying headshake made the meaning explicit.

Dante grinned at his brother and pulled on the ribbon, untying the bow and playfully flinging it at Nero. Both father and son were staring at him now, Vergil with barely disguised apprehension while Nero seemed about to burst from excitement. He lifted the top… and found a bunch of papers inside. Dante tilted his head and filched one out, squinting to read the sharp and precise script on it.

_ "Love seeketh not itself to please, nor for itself hath any care, but for another gives its ease, and builds a Heaven in Hell's despair." _

Oh boy. Had Vergil prepared an entire box of poetry lines for him? He dropped that paper and picked another. This one was _ a lot _ simpler, and the clean handwriting had grown shaky, with larger letters and big curves. Dante immediately imagined Nero, clinging tight to a pen, while Vergil guided his hand. All the message said was _ "Te amo, Zio." _ A soft warmth coursed through Dante, and he reached out for Nero without even thinking, running a hand absent-mindedly through the soft hair, trying out a third paper. This one was all Vergil, and it only said _ "Thank you." _

And now that he'd seen more of the messages, he could kinda see what the poetry meant, and--wow, shit. Just. This box had at least twenty papers, if not more? Fuck. Did they all--? Nah. All that love? No way. But when he peeked at another, it had his second camping poem on it, the nice one. That was altogether too honest and soft from Vergil, what was Dante supposed to do with it all? No wonder Vergil looked ready to melt into the couch and sink all the way into Hell! He wasn't looking at Dante at all, had just kept his eyes trained on his fancy three-generational Christmas tree, and he didn't move an inch when he cleared his throat.

"It's… a reminder. Should you need it."

"Vergil…" 

Vergil turned to him sharply and glared, a silent plea not to comment overly on the gift. Dante couldn't help but burst out laughing, but he obliged for once, foregoing any smartass comments to try and cover up how flustered this left him. Maybe if they both just talked to Nero all night, it'd go away. Dante closed the box up and focused on the kid. "Your zio's gonna bathe in love all year with this. Might just drown in it," he said. "Thanks, kiddo."

Nero raised his arms in response--"I wanna hug."--and Dante was all too happy to grant his wish. He lifted him up, throwing Nero a few feet in the air before catching him again, triggering first a few giggles, then a whole slew of hiccupy laughter. He tried to keep Nero sitting on him after that, but the kid just kept demanding more, and who really could resist that smile? (No one. No one could.)

Then it was finally his turn to give out the goods, and if the rest of the evening was any indication, Vergil was gonna pull his public hate-secret love act on him over it again. Or maybe just the first part. "Well. That's that. We outta put some music on. Time for a living room flight, Nero!"

He grabbed him under the armpits and just flung him in a wide arc towards Vergil, whose eyes widened. His dad reflexes snapped in and he caught Nero with ease, half-crashing into the couch with his giggling kid in his arms, his glare following Dante as he completed his master plan and started the music. The first few notes of Andrea Bocelli’s _ Con Te Partiro _ drifted into the living room, slamming him with nostalgic familiarity.

This was his true gift to Vergil, his contribution to the family traditions. He’d snuck to the stereo while they set up the food, placing the single disk in it, knowing his time would come at some point in the evening. Eva had loved this dude, put it on every Christmas without fault, playing it incessantly instead of the more typical holiday music. She’d sung with him, her beautiful voice as clear in his memories as Bocelli himself. 

A strangled exclamation warned him Vergil had recognized the music, so Dante spun and threw him a grin. “Didntcha think something was missin’, bro? Ain’t Christmas without Bocelli.”

“Has it occurred to you that perhaps the omission was voluntary?” 

“I _ know _it was,” Dante answered. Fear had wormed its way into Vergil’s eyes, proof that his twin knew him too well and had guessed exactly what would happen, should this specific music play tonight. Dante spread out his arms, strolled to the couch, and flopped next to Vergil. “Mom’s not there to sing, ya know…”

“Don’t be absurd, Dante,” Vergil scolded him. “I won’t sing.”

“You say that _ now_.” 

But that disc was about to run on loop for hours, and Dante knew, sooner or later, he would get his brother. He started humming over the song, earning himself an eyeroll and a small shove. Vergil stubbornly refused to make a sound, instead returning to the floor with Nero and his new toys. That was all right. They had all night. Dante subtly filled a glass for Vergil and set it next to him, before returning to Lady’s side. She’d cracked her gift open, so he started pestering her about the poems, provoking glares from Vergil on the ground and a slew of mockery from Lady herself, but making no progress whatsoever. _ That _ was not a fight he expected to win, but it was still fun.

The night passed on. They discussed a few recent demon hunts, Nero chatted about ghosts and snow and other cool white things, their drinks kept getting lower (before being filled once more, and then lowered again), and Vergil’s tongue loosened at a fascinating rate. Hot damn, but he’d forgotten how little it took him to sway unsteadily on his feet and voice just about everything going through his mind (mainly “you’re so beautiful, Nero” and “the tree smells nice”, with the occasional “you’re annoying, Dante, shut up” but said in the slurriest, most loving way possible). 

Bocelli’s disc had looped back to _ Con Te Partiro _ and Vergil swayed in time with it, lips moving with the lyrics. He still wasn’t singing. Not much longer now, though. Dante exchanged a wink with Lady, pointed at him, and tapped his lips. She snorted and rolled her eyes. 

Seven tracks later, he took his gamble.

“Hey, Vergil! This is your song!” They had _ all _been his songs, really. As children they had screamed any of them at the top of their lungs, small voices covering up their mother’s singing. But Vergil was drunk, now, terribly so, and that made him easy to bait. “I betcha you don’t even remember the lyrics.”

“Is that so?” 

He unfolded himself in one extremely expressive and unstable movement, before attempting to stiffen his back and staredown at Dante. It was altogether hilarious, but Dante clung to his nonchalant front and simply raised his eyebrows. Vergil turned his gaze to Nero, who was staring up in confusion, a red marker still in his hand.

“Did you hear that, Nero? Your _ zio _ thinks _ I _have a faulty memory!” He crossed his arms. "Little monster, would you sit with Lady for a spell? Dante--put it back from the start."

"If you insist," he said, putting years of carefully constructed casual coolness to good use, hiding his absolute _ thrill _ at nailing just the right amount of challenge for Vergil to fall for it. He chugged down the rest of his drink and returned to the stereo, gleefully hitting the back button. Nero was about to receive a demonstration in just how much of a dork his father was.

Nero clambered up the sofa and settled next to Lady as the first few notes drifted out of the stereo. Vergil closed his eyes, letting the music flow through him, swaying with it. His chest puffed instant before the first lyrics arrived, and then his voice rose with them, clear and steady (much more than he was itself), each word pronounced with such precision he left no doubt that he knew _ perfectly _each of them rather than mumbling along.

"Vivo per lei da quando sai  
La prima volta l'ho incontrata  
Non mi ricordo come, ma  
Mi entrata dentro e c'è restata"

He opened his eyes as he sang, gluing a defiant blue stare on Dante, never missing a single beat, a slight smirk growing. Only Vergil would still remember those lyrics over a decade after last hearing them (unless-_ unless he listened every year, the dumbass_). Dante's eyes widened, but he said nothing as Vergil reached the end of the first verse.

Then he gestured at Dante, a small wave of invitation that could only mean "After you", and Dante realised… this one was a duo. He bit back a swear, and laughed--beaten at his own stupid game! But the music was on, now, and he sure as hell wasn't going to back down.

"Vivo per lei anch'io lo sai  
E tu non esserne geloso  
Lei è di tutti quelli che"

He strode closer to Vergil with every word, arms spread out, grinning. His voice ran deeper than Vergil (and he really should've had Bocelli's part, instead of Giorgia's) but he really didn't quite remember all of the words, hadn't bothered with remembering it all. It earned him an eyeroll, but then the refrain was upon them and _ that _ part he knew.

Vergil leaped onto the couch, and almost missed the first line as he tried to keep his balance. Dante came to his rescue, jumping right after him and throwing an arm around his shoulder. It earned him a glare, but then _ "È una musa che ci invita" _ hit, and they dove into the song together, Vergil placing a hand over his heart while Dante kept his arms wide open. Nero had climbed on Lady's lap and clapped his hands at their antics, and she just shook her head, unable to entirely hide her smile.

They shifted between back to back (when they sang separately) and side by side (when they had to duet), never really discussing the arrangement, just rolled with the flow, and it was _ exhilarating _to be busting out his voice like that, singing loud enough to wake any unfortunate neighbours, Vergil half-leaning against him because the poor dude couldn't hold any liquor. Dante never wanted this to end, but the music went on, until the last lyrics came about, and Dante offered his last solo part:

"Vivo per lei perché mi dà  
Pause e note in libertà  
Ci fosse un'altra vita la vivo  
La vivo per lei"

They ought to have sang the last part together, but Vergil sprang down from the couch, landing hard and half stumbling towards Nero. He reached out, and the kid extended his arms immediately. Vergil picked him up right as the last refrain started, and he caught Dante off guard by changing the lyrics.

"Vivo per lei la _ famiglia  
_Io vivo per lei"

He spun Nero around, placing him on his shoulders as he completed his 360, slamming his foot down hard to avoid falling from the energetic turn. Warmth blossomed in Dante's chest at the sight--those lyrics definitely said "musica", not "famiglia", yet here was Vergil, radiating joy as he basked in his little monster's presence, singing a whole ass duo with his twin, changing the goddamn music to _ literally _ say he lived for his family, and wasn't that the purest memory he could've asked outta tonight? A great laugh bubbled out of Dante, and he joined his brother in singing again.

"Vivo per lei, è unica  
Io vivo per lei"

The line repeated a few times--enough that Nero caught on and started yelling "Vivooooooo" very loudly on top of them. Vergil missed a whole line because he had to hold back his laugh--and then, as quickly as it had started, the song was over, the charm broken. They all exhaled. Vergil ran an embarrassed hand through his hair, sleeking it back, then he tilted his chin up.

"As you can see, I remember the lyrics quite well."

"Ancora!" Nero demanded, shoving his tiny hands through Vergil's hair and destroying what he'd just fixed.

"Ya already got your own, dontcha?" Dante asked. "You knew 'em too well."

The smile washed away from Vergil's face, and the blue eyes he turned to Dante were beset by deep sadness. He lifted Nero from his perch and held him close. "I do… I've listened to it every year since I happened upon a copy."

"Well, get used to it. We're gonna be doin' it for years to come--together."

"I'm recording you next year," Lady promised.

"You're singing with us next year!" Dante countered. "No one's gonna escape, right Nero?"

"No one!" Nero exclaimed, and Dante grinned at him. He probably hadn't understood, but he sure _ was _enthusiastic.

"It'll cost you."

Vergil immediately set to negotiating the price of that, bartering with services and permissions to attend other family events. She gave in with a grumble at mention of Nero's birthday, and Dante couldn't help but grin. Business partner his _ ass_, yeah. He flopped down into the couch, glass in hand, and closed his eyes. Andrea Bocelli played in the background, half-buried by his family's thrilling negotiations, contentment filling him at this music of quiet, unspoken love.

**Author's Note:**

> I would be lying if I said Bocelli isn't 100% my christmas music too haha


End file.
